The Devastation: Unexpected Circumstances Book 7 (6 page)

“And there will be a damn lot more of it if you don’t answer me!” I screamed into her face.  “
Where is my wife
?”

“Always so melodramatic!” Whitney sighed.  I turned toward her and glared.

“If you know anything of this…”  I let my voice trail off.  There was something in her eyes I did not like—at all.  It was…
knowledge
.  “You know where she is.”

The princess merely shrugged.

“She knows nothing of the sort!” Margaret said, but the tone of her voice had changed.  She, too, was looking at her daughter, and I could see the doubt in her eyes.

“You will die if you have touched her,” I said to Whitney.  “Where is she?”

“What difference does it make?” Whitney asked.  “You do not need her; you never have.  I am here for you.”

I scoffed and shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her.  Could she be serious?  As many times as I had told her she would not be made my queen, could she still think there is a possibility of a union?

“Branford, be reasonable.” Whitney cooed at me.  “We are meant to be, not you and some common trash—”

Whatever else she was going to say remained stuck in her throat as I backhanded her across the face.  She squealed like an animal and fell to the side before Parnell could right her again.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” Margaret screeched from across the room.

“Where is my wife?” I snarled again at Whitney.  I pulled back my hand to hit her a second time while her mother yelled at me.

“I said stay away from her!  Do you hear me?  She is my daughter and a princess!  You will not treat her so!”

I turned and eyed Margaret standing in front of one of my soldiers with her arms pinned behind her back.  I stalked slowly over to her and leaned down until my face was but inches from hers.

“Do you know where my wife is?” I asked her quietly.

“No, I do not,” she said in her haughty tone.  “And if I did, I would not—”

Margaret’s sentence ended in a choking gasp as my blade slid easily into her.  I placed my hand on her shoulder and pushed down at the same time I pulled up with my sword arm, impaling her further with a twist of the blade.

“Then I have no more use for you,” I told her lifeless eyes.

As her body dropped to the ground, I turned back to Whitney.  Her eyes were wide as she tried to take a step forward but found herself still in Parnell’s grasp and unable to move.  I could hear the muffled cries of Jared and Hedda through their gags.

“King Branford,” Parnell said quietly, “are you sure you want to—”

“Every tower razed.” I repeated my statements from this morning.  “No one loyal to Hadebrand survives.  No one.”

My gaze moved briefly to the twins where they cowered in the corner of the room.  Hedda’s wide eyes were red and swollen as she stared at her mother’s lifeless body.  I swallowed hard and turned back to the older princess.

“Tell me now.” I growled as I pointed my sword at her.

Whitney’s gaze moved slowly from the body on the floor back to mine.  Her breath came in short, choppy huffs as Parnell yanked her backwards to hold her steady.

“Where is Alexandra?” I yelled again.

“She can rot right where she is!” Whitney screamed back at me, apparently not even realizing her admission.

She knows.

It was revealed in her eyes as well as betrayed on her lips.  Edgar…Edgar had not known the plots of his daughter though he had also answered for them.  The deed itself, though, had all been Whitney’s.  The woman was obviously insane to think such a plot would work to bring her into my good graces, and now she was going to tell me where to find Alexandra.

“Erik,” I called out, and my young page appeared at my side.

“Yes, King Branford?”

“Fetch four horses and bring them to the field just outside the castle walls.”

“Yes, sire!”

“Parnell?”

“My king?”

“Bring Whitney to the field.”

Our eyes met, and I could see within his that he knew exactly what I intended to do.  He had not the stomach for it, but he nodded his acceptance and began to push the princess out of the chamber.

“What of those two?” Rylan asked.

I looked to Hedda and Jared, both still bound and gagged with tears running down their faces.  They had just watched their mother die, and they had to know Whitney was next.  Jared was a stranger to me since he had only just begun to battle in tournaments, but I recalled Hedda.  Alexandra had even talked of taking care of her as a babe.  She had grown much since I had last seen her a few years ago.

“No supporter of Hadebrand survives,” I said simply.  I waved over one of the soldiers, and he came forth to bow before me.  I leaned close to him and put my hand on his shoulder.  “Kill the offspring of Hadebrand.  Be quick and merciful, and deliver the heads of the royal family to the front of the castle when it is done.”

I could see the man’s throat bob slightly as his gaze met with the young girl’s fearful expression.  He nodded quickly, and I could see the resignation in his eyes.

“Yes, my king.”

“Good man,” I said quietly as I took my hand from his shoulder.  He looked up to meet my gaze, and I could see the questions in his eyes.  “Survivors with grudges lead to future wars.  With each of their lives, you save the lives of your kingdom’s future children.”

I saw the understanding in his expression, and I knew the deed would be done quickly.  I did not look at Jared or Hedda again but looked instead to their sister, whose blood would soon be on my hands in a much more direct way.  I took one more glance at the soldier who would be the executioner of the youngest of Edgar’s children.

“It will be done,” he said.  His voice was hoarse and caught in his throat.

“You will perform this duty,” I said, making sure we both knew there was no question about it.

“It is my honor to serve Silverhelm, King Branford,” he said with a more definitive tone.

I nodded and followed Rylan out the door to the tournament arena behind Hadebrand’s castle.  It was the very same place I had first laid eyes on my beautiful wife.  I remembered it vividly.

“What is your name?” I questioned the beautiful creature before me.  I was glad for my armor and the ability it had to hide my excitement and lust.

“Alexandra, my lord.” She responded so quietly I only barely made out her answer.  I watched the color brighten her cheekbones until she dipped her head, causing her hair to fall across part of her face.

“Are you agreeable?” I asked as I tilted my head to get a better view of the face she tried to hide behind her long hair.

“My lord?” she asked quietly.  She obviously did not understand my meaning.

“Are you agreeable, Alexandra?” I said again.  I decided to make an official proposal so there would be no further doubt in the young maid’s mind.   “Will you agree to marry me?”

I had been so sure of my course, and I knew my action would anger Edgar into a response.  He had already made it clear he believed Sterling lands should be part of Hadebrand, and having the son of those lands insult him in such a way would require action.  I had given no thought to the handmaid whose life I would turn upside down in my quest for King Edgar’s head.  I had no idea what I would drag her into.  Even if I had known at the time, it would not have mattered to me.

I no longer cared as much about Sterling lands, avenging my parents, or Edgar’s death.  The only thing that mattered was Alexandra, and I still had no idea where she was.  If I could have gone back and changed it all, I would have, without a doubt.  I would have found a way to still take her as my wife without destroying both kingdoms in the process.

The moon was high in the sky, and torches lined the center of the arena where four strong horses stood in a row.  I walked steadily into the center where Parnell stood with Whitney’s arms held behind her back.  She struggled against him with anger in her eyes and jeers on her lips.

“You will release me, you foul creature!” she yelled at him.  “How dare you!  You are nothing more than a…a breeder of beasts!”

She twisted again, and Sir Rylan raised an eyebrow.

“Shall I silence her?” he asked.  He held a piece of cloth in his hands.

“No,” I said.  I shook my head as I walked straight up to her.  “I want answers.”

“You’ll get nothing from me!” Whitney snorted at me and stomped her foot.

I leaned over and grabbed the hair at the back of her neck.  I pulled sharply back, tilting her head and snarling down at her.   She cried out and tried to kick me.

“Then I will listen to your screams!”

“You would not dare do anything against a royal!”

I chuckled softly right before I spat in her face.

“Do you see your father?  Your brothers?”  I asked her.  For the first time, she had no response.  “That’s because their heads are being placed on spikes at this very moment.  Did you not watch your own mother fall?  Do you think you will be spared?  Your sister is likely dead by now, as well, though her fate was far more merciful than yours will be.”

“You would not,” she said, though her voice did not sound so sure.  “You would never do such a thing to me…you love me.”

“Love you?” I could not keep the shock from my voice, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

“You just do not know it yet!” she said.  “We were matched as children, and our parents knew we were to be together.  Even when your father refused to betroth us, he still knew it would happen someday.  We are meant to be, Branford!”

“I am going to kill you, you stupid, insane woman.”

“You would never!” she said with contemptuous certainty.

I stared at her a moment longer.  How do you reason with someone so obviously out of her mind?  Would she still respond, at least, to her own will to live through this?  One thing I knew for sure—honesty was not going to benefit me now.

“There is one way I might consider sparing you,” I said, the lie flowing easily from my lips, “one way only.  Tell me now—where is my wife?”

Whitney laughed.

“The
commoner queen
?” She sneered.  “Who would even care, save for the child inside of her?”

She tried to step forward and out of Parnell’s grip, but he held her fast.  He turned his head to the side, and his eyes stared off into the distance as he pretended he would not have done the same had it been Ida taken.  There was no way she was going to be reasoned with, and I was determined to have my answer now.

As Parnell held her back, I closed the gap between us and reached out to her with one hand.  I traced the side of her face and along her jaw, and I felt her body relax slightly.  Once I reached her slender neck, I wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed.

She gasped once before her air was cut off, and I growled into her face.

“You have one final chance to speak.  Once I release you, you had better open your mouth and tell me where to find my wife, or you will die most painfully.  I am not interested in your delusions or your games.  I only want my wife and child with me again.”

I let go of her throat, and she would have fallen if Parnell had not held her up.  She coughed and wheezed for a moment before I grew tired of waiting, and smacked her on the side of her head.

Her gaze turned to me, and she glared.

“Never!” She snarled and struggled.

“We’ll see,” I replied, my voice now calm and collected.  I summoned four of the soldiers to my side.  “Help me to prepare her.”

I grabbed the ropes they brought to me and made quick work of Whitney’s arms while Parnell—his eyes still staring blankly as he tried to prepare himself for what he knew would come—held her legs so ropes could be tied to her ankles.  Once each of her limbs was secured tightly, the ends of the ropes were given to four different soldiers, who one-by-one walked solemnly to his horse.  Each horse faced a different direction, and as the soldiers tied the ropes to the saddles, I grabbed Whitney by her middle and held her parallel to the ground with her face staring into the sky.

She struggled, kicked, and screamed at me, but I ignored her.  I held her flat with my palms underneath her back until the soldiers had walked the horses far enough away for me to release my grip without her body falling to the ground.

“There you go—stop now,” I called out, and the soldiers steadied each of the horses.  “Hold them still.”

I stepped up to one side of Whitney and looked down at her.  She was completely suspended in the air now, with each of her splayed limbs holding up the rest of her body.  At the end of the line, each horse stood with the rope secured to the saddle and a soldier standing with sword drawn.   At my signal, they would know exactly what to do.

“Do you realize,” I asked as I leaned over her, “exactly what will happen to you if I command the horses to run?”

Whitney’s eyes widened for a moment.

“They…they could not,” she said.  Her voice was already strained.  “Branford…they cannot do that with me tied to them!”

“Yes,” I said to her, “they can.  They are far, far stronger than your weak and useless limbs.  You will be torn into pieces.”